Part 34 (2/2)

”What you got in that paper, Jim?” he asked, puffing from his exertion.

Still Wheaton did not speak, but he picked up the parcel and took a step toward the door, Margrave advancing upon him.

Wheaton reached the door, holding the package under his arm.

”Don't touch me; don't touch me,” he said, hoa.r.s.ely. Margrave still came toward him. Wheaton's unengaged hand went nervously to his throat, and he fumbled at his tie. The sweat came out on his forehead. It was a curious scene, the tall, dark man in his evening clothes, pitiful in his agitation, with his back against the door, hugging the bundle under one arm; and Margrave, in his rough business suit, walking slowly toward Wheaton, who retreated before him.

”I want that package, Jim.”

”Go away! go away!” The sweat shone on Wheaton's forehead in great drops. ”I can't, I can't--you know I can't!”

”You d.a.m.ned coward!” said Margrave, laughing suddenly. ”I want that bundle.” He made a gesture and Wheaton dodged and shrank away. Margrave laughed again; a malicious mirth possessed him. But he grew suddenly fierce and his fat fingers closed about Wheaton's neck. Wheaton huddled against the door, holding the brown packet with both hands.

”Drop it! Drop it!” blurted Margrave. He was breathing hard.

A sharp knock at the door against which they struggled caused Margrave to spring away. He walked down the room several paces with an a.s.sumption of carelessness, and Wheaton, with the bundle still under his arm, turned the k.n.o.b of the door.

”h.e.l.lo, Wheaton!” called Fenton, blinking in the glare of the lights.

”Good evening,” said Wheaton.

”How're you, Fenton,” said Margrave, carelessly, but mopping his forehead with his handkerchief.

”Here are your papers,” said Wheaton, almost thrusting his parcel into the lawyer's hands.

”All right,” said Fenton, looking curiously from one to the other. And then he glanced at the package, as if absent-mindedly, and saw that the seal was unbroken.

”Good night, gentlemen,” he said. ”Sorry to have disturbed you.”

”Hope you're not going to work to-night,” said Margrave, solicitously.

”Oh, not very long,” said the lawyer.

”Hard on honest men when lawyers work at night,” continued Margrave, as the lawyer walked across the lobby.

”Yes, you railroad people can say that,” Fenton flung back at him.

”How much Traction was in that package?” asked Margrave, closing the door.

”I don't know,” said Wheaton, smoothing his tie. The watchman could be heard closing the outside door on Fenton.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

”No, I don't think you do,” returned Margrave. ”You'd fixed it pretty well with Fenton. If he'd only been a minute later I'd have got that bundle. I didn't realize at first what you had there, Jim, until you kept fingering it so desperately.”

”Now,” he said amiably, as if the real business of the evening had just been reached, ”there are those shares you own, Jim. I hope we won't be interrupted while you're getting them for me.”

Wheaton hesitated.

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